Resistance
by raymono
Summary: If one wishes to have a child, authorities must be alerted. The mother and father must be over the age of consent set by their parents, and abide by their regulations. If the child, and/or the parents do to not meet requirements, both will be prosecuted.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **This story is based on the album _The Resistance_ by _Muse_, the outline of the story is based roughly on the tracks, in chronological order. Other influences are The Resistance by Gemma Malley and the 2005 film, The Island.

**Disclaimer: **See anything you recognise? It's not mine.

* * *

><p><em>If one wishes to have a child, authorities must be alerted. The mother and father must be over the age of consent set by their parents, and abide by their regulations. All children must be tracked and will be registered with a security number and card. If a child is found without any of the items listed above, andor the parents of said child to not meet requirements, both will be prosecuted accordingly, reliant upon their offence._

**-Sampson V. Birth Control Legislators, 2074**

A sound shattered the cold, crisp morning air. It could have been a scream, (It wouldn't have been unusual,) but the pitch was too constant. Too high. Almost like a humming.

This is what greeted Kurt Hummel every morning. Somehow, the rest of his dormitory managed to sleep through it; how, he did not know.

He swung his legs out of the creaking, single bed. The very same one he has always slept in, ever since he arrived at Boondock. The starched fabric of his issued night clothes rubbed uncomfortably on his chest, and the draft which greeted his bare feet when he placed them on the floor was unpleasant to say the least.

He allowed himself a few seconds to rub his eyes, pressing firmly till you achieve that uncomfortable pressure and see multi-coloured spots under your eyelids. The stainless steel bracelet on his right wrist pressed against his cheek as he did so, causing him to hiss with the chill.

He glanced down at the device. Imprinted was his official title: KEH. No one was known by their first names. Initials, yes. Surnames, occasionally. A small blue light blinked back at him, the numbers on the display slowly counting down. Slowly.

00:02:15:07:42:01

00:02:15:07:42:00

00:02:15:07:41:59

2 months, 15 days, 7 hours, 41 minutes and 59 seconds,

_58 seconds_,

Until he was 18. Until Kurt was free. Free from Boondock. Free to work for his selected employer. Free to do whatever they wished of him. He couldn't wait until that day arrived.

Kurt silently passed his roommates on his way to the bathroom, uniform tucked under his arm. That was one advantage of being woken up earlier than everyone else: The small amount of privacy he was allowed each morning was a godsend.

He placed his uniform on the benches, parallel to the sinks, then turning the facet and watching the water swirl around the basin before looking up into the cracked, rusted mirror above the sink.

He had looked worse.

His hair flopping over his forehead, the bags under his eyes clearly prominent, even in the dingy light the bathroom provided. Kurt splashed his face with water briefly before reaching for his comb, rinsing it under the water and trying to style his hair into something more presentable.

He changed quickly, back into his issued uniform: Three white button ups, two pairs of black slacks, three pairs of white socks, three pairs of black underwear and matching leather belt and shoes, all to be kept pristine and polished. Prefects also wore a rectangular, silver pin on the left side of their chest, which must also be kept to the same standard of the rest of the uniform. Failure to do so will result in isolation.

Kurt walked swiftly back to his dormitory, making his bed, snatching the whistle off nail next to the door, placing it to his lips and blowing soundly.

'Wake up,' he stated. He didn't shout, only raising his voice slightly. He didn't need to shout. The effect was instantaneous. All the boys in the room left their beds, got changed, dressed in their uniform, identical to Kurt's besides the silver pin, and made their beds. They stood waiting to the right of their sleeping station, ready for inspection. That wasn't Kurt's job.

Boondock was managed by one woman. No one knew her name: Kurt had only ever known her as Ma'am, and she seemed content on keeping it that way. She wore a burgundy blouse with a black, floor length skirt. She was short and round, but intimidating none-the-less. The heels of her shoes sounding like gun shots as she strode slowly up and down the rows of beds in the room.

Kurt was lucky he was exempt from such ridicule. He allowed himself to slouch slightly, and his eyes to wonder. A small beam of light shone through the boarded walls, catching the flakes of dust and fibres as they drifted through the air. It was miniscule, almost unnoticeable, Ma'am wasn't one to let the little things pass, but today was different. There was only one reasons the building wouldn't be on lockdown; metal blinds open, doors unbolted, security devices inactive:

A new student.

It had been so long since they had anyone from the Outside come to join the establishment. The last had been several years ago: Michael. He was merely 5 when he arrived. Kurt wasn't a prefect then, he was only 13, but he could hear Ma'am speaking in her office. He knows he shouldn't have stayed. Listening in on your superiors is wrong, but he still recalls the murmurs of _'the boy is only young, he won't remember Before, no adjustment is necessary. It's not too late for him.'_

He's spent nights upon nights wondering these words. No adjustment is necessary. What does that even mean? Adjustment to what? Adjustment to sleeping arrangements? It must have been.

Kurt was drawn out of his thoughts when the boys marched out of the room in single file, down to the dining hall. He followed suit. Down the staircase, turn right, second left, the dining hall, (first left being the kitchens.)

There were 4 long, wooden tables. The varnish long-gone thanks to the amount of scrubbing they had endured over the years. Each dorm had their own table; two for the boys, two for the girls. They had to eat separately, of course.

That was another rule. Young men and women were not allowed within one meter range of each other, so to avoid romantic attachment. But it did more than that. People were scared to even be friends with someone of the opposite gender, in fear of getting too close to them. Prefects where immune. As it was their job to keep order among the already strict regime, no matter which party they belonged to, they must listen.

_Always obey your superiors._

That's how Kurt became friends with LQF. Kurt knew her name, but it was far too risky to be caught calling her Lucy, let alone Quinn. If anyone over heard them, they'd both be stripped of their prefect role and possibly given a new title.

Kurt remembered the day when Quinn first arrived at Boondock, barely two years ago. There were rumours that a new girl had arrived. Small whispers behind hands, someone overhearing another's hushed conversation in the bathrooms. Apparently it was someone Kurt's own age. He was the oldest; (besides the prefects) having someone he could potentially be friend with was exciting. He knew the meter-rule, but that didn't mean he couldn't speak to her. Rumours settled after a few days. This 'new girl' didn't appear until five days after they were first started. She was blank. Like an empty shell. She wouldn't talk to anyone. She just sat, quietly getting on with her chores, keeping her head down. That changed eventually. She began to talk about her past, to Kurt. Only to Kurt.

The two prefects stood at the head of their respective tables, overlooking this morning's servers dish out breakfast. Porridge. It was always porridge. If you don't eat it all, then obviously you're too full to eat anything for the rest of the day. There was to be no waste, or sharing of portions. Prefects where supposed to report such behaviour, but Kurt wasn't one to tell, the occasional time this happened. He knew what it was like to be hungry.

When everyone was settled, eating their food and the low sound of hushed chatter filled the air, was when Quinn came and stood by Kurt.

"New kid?" She whispered, still looking over to the girl's side of the room.

Kurt nodded in response. "I reckon. Did you see the light this morning, too?"

"I did. We won't see them for at least a week now. How old, do you think?"

"It's hard to say," Kurt wondered. "Someone young. We never get adolescents. You're an exception, Q."

Quinn hummed in agreement. "How old were you, again? When you arrived at Boondock, I mean?"

"Eight. Chances are they'll be younger than I was. Unless they're a transfer."

"Might be. We still have a few spaces open on our side."

"Us too," Kurt concluded, before the whistle signalling the end of breakfast sounded.

Ma'am stood in the doorway of the dining hall, waiting patiently. After students had successfully stacked their bowls, and lined up, other whistle was blown to announce the start of first lesson.

Kurt followed behind the last line. First was engineering, then home economics, followed by textiles, before lunch. Wednesdays were his best days. He was a skilled in all three of his morning lessons, and afternoons entailed the surveillance of today's kitchen staff, which just so happened to be his dormitory.

He walked into the workshop and stood behind his allocated seat. He checked his supply of washers and screws, made sure all of the tools where in the draw before taking out his apron.

"Mr. Hummel?" He stopped what he was doing, head turned towards the door. Ma'am was standing, a stern expression on her face.

"Yes, Ma'am?"

"Could you please follow me?" She turned before looking back at him expectantly. "You're excused from first lesson."

They walked silently down the corridor, past the other classrooms, Ma'am pacing briskly in front as Kurt trailed behind. As usual, Kurt was fretting. It wasn't unusual for him to be called out of lesson. More often than not it was just a check up on how well behaved her students were, or something else she wished to add to the long list of rules already enforced at Boondock, but alas, it still worried him. Surely it was only a matter of time before he was shot down. Before he did something wrong. Before he was stripped of his role as prefect, his name and taken away.

He'd seen it happen before. Students taken away from Boondock. He didn't know where to, or why. It couldn't have been for the same reason he was brought here; Boondock is never full. There are always spare beds.

She opened the door to her office, sitting at her desk and waited as Kurt closed the door behind him. He turned to face her, putting his hands behind his back.

_Only sit when you are asked to be seated._

"Please take a seat, Mr. Hummel," She gestured to one of the two chairs opposite herself.

After Kurt sat down, she began.

"Now, I know you are not new to this role, and between you and Miss. Fabray, I feel you are more suited for the job.

"If you remember, when I first appointed you as prefect, I told you of all the possible duties this role may include. Do you recall?"

"I do, Ma'am."

"Right, well this is the first time and hopefully the last time that you'll have to perform such a task."

She was rambling — Not getting to the point. She only did that when she was nervous. Kurt had only seen it happen once before, when Quinn arrived. She was addressing all the students about her arrival. That must be why she's getting so worked up. It's about the new kid. Kurt waited.

"We have a new student enlisting with us at Boondock, and it is your job to look after the boy until he is... ready, to join the rest of you. You are reliable for bringing him his meals, and you are also excused from your first period lesson every day this week. Any prefect duties you may have during that time will be temporarily taken over by Miss. Fabrey. Do you have any questions?"

"No, Ma'am." That was the truth in regards to the task, but he had a million more about the new boy.

"I trust you will show our new student right from wrong, and tell him about your responsibilities as a pupil here. Above all, don't believe anything he tells you about the Outside. We've heard from... his previous handlers that he is a deceitful boy: He's just trying to scare you.

"I will show you where you are to meet this boy each morning, but from then on he's your own responsibility. I have faith in you, Mr. Hummel, do not let me down; understand?"

"Yes, Ma'am."


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: **This story is based on the album _The Resistance_ by _Muse_, the outline of the story is based roughly on the tracks, in chronological order. Other influences are The Resistance by Gemma Malley and the 2005 film, The Island.

This chapter may seem a little fast paced, but it will be explained. I hope. _Fingers crossed._ ^^

**Disclaimer: **See anything you recognise? It's not mine.

* * *

><p><em>After birth, parents must present a list of regulations to which their child and only their child is to follow. Laws enforced by the Birth Control Legislators must also be respected by these regulations. All non-conforming children will be prosecuted if their parents see fit.<em>

**Sampson V. Birth Control Legislators, 2074**

Ma'am stood up from behind her desk, picked some invisible lint off her blouse and beckoned for Kurt to follow behind. There was a door at the end of the main corridor, opposite the front door is it wasn't for the walls which got in the way. Kurt had always wondered what was concealed behind the few centimetres of wood which made up the door.

There were plenty of locked doors at Boondock. Many of them were clearly unused: the door knobs covered in dust, or even rusted. But this one was used frequently. He'd often seen Ma'am walking in and out, always locking the door behind her when she exited, to keep people out, or perhaps, to keep some_thing _in.

He was disappointed as Ma'am pulled the large ring of keys from her belt, put the appropriate one in lock and turned. As soon as the door was opened he was greeted with a set of steep wooden steps, leading down to the basement, (Boondock had a basement?) which creaked in abuse with each step he took.

"I should warn you now; our new guest is here because he violates Law #27. I shouldn't have to remind you which particular subject that law covers."

"No, Ma'am." Of course Kurt knew. All 124 Laws (and counting) had been drilled into everyone's minds during their civilian studies lessons.

_"Now, class. You need to learn all of the Laws for when you are ready to go and work Outside. We shall start from the beginning. The first 10 Laws are based on the 10 commandments. These are the most important, and therefore the most punishable."_

Ms. Spencer was a nice lady, if a little patronising. She never punished anyone; not that anyone would dare misbehave in any lesson anyway. The Law which Ma'am had mentioned approached the subject of sexuality: what was wrong and what was right. All based on scriptures from the holy texts. That meant only one thing: this new student was gay.

"I believe you can set him on the… now what's the phrase? Oh yes, on the _straight and narrow_." She made a sound which sounded vaguely triumphant.

Kurt audibly swallowed as he continued to follow her slowly down the flight of stairs. Two things which will stop you from being taken away, another step down on the social pyramid, as Quinn says.

One: No displays or indications of romantic and/or sexual attraction to another student. Kurt knew that the two prefects who were on duty when he arrived at Boondock were somewhat romantically involved. It was one morning, just before roll call. Prefects woke up before the other students. He was going to the bathroom, just to get some water. No one would know if no one saw him. He overheard them talking, then. He pressed his ear against the door, in time to make out the 'we _shouldn't be doing this_' and '_no one will find out_' just as he leaned a little too heavily against the wood, ended up falling flat on his face, and became acquainted with the bathroom tiles.

"_If you tell anyone about this, you little faggot, I'm going straight to Ma'am and tell her all about you little cockmunching ways, alright?_"

Two: Don't be gay.

The basement wasn't small, but it had been sectioned off. The room in which Kurt was currently standing in was unfurnished apart from two worn, red leather chairs, facing each other with a low wooden coffee table between them. It would be pitch black if it wasn't for the single light bulb which hung from the ceiling.

"Please take a seat, and wait here."

Kurt took a seat as Ma'am disappeared round the corner to another room. Just like the rest of the house, the basement was rather shabby. The wallpaper, obviously placed there years ago, had begun to peel away from the wall, revealing the mould and damp it previously concealed. The only other two rooms which Kurt could see had automatic shutters on them. The same as the ones used on the doors of the dormitory at night. It was cruel to keep a young boy locked up in a room like that, all by himself. They could at least have him roam the basement alone; there was nothing else down here, as far as Kurt could see.

He heard them approaching before he saw them, he raised his eyes from where they were trained to his hands. Ma'am reappeared, dragging the, apparently reluctant, new student by the collar of his navy-blue t-shirt, and Kurt stood on arrival.

He didn't notice how old the boy actually was until he was standing in front of him. He must have been around Kurt's age, although he was shorter by a few inches. The fluffy curls on the top of his head stuck out at every direction; as though he'd been repeatedly running his hands through his hair. He kept his eyes down, focusing on the firm grasp Ma'am had on his t-shirt.

"This is our new student, formally known as BDA. Mr. Hummel, you already know what your role is regarding Mr. A's introduction here at Boondock. Please, take a seat and get acquainted. If you require my presence at anytime, do not hesitate to come and find me; I shall be in my office. I'll be back in an hour."

She let go of the stranger's shirt and he grumbled something under his breath as he sat down, opposite to where Kurt was originally sat. Ma'am walked towards the staircase, as she did, she put her hand on Kurt's shoulder and whispered, "Good luck."

Kurt watched her disappear the way they came in, and listened as the steps creaked, the door was shut behind them, and the final click of the locked door was the only sound in the room.

This was it. There was no way out. It wasn't as if Kurt was actually _nervous. _He spent all of his days with other people, but he couldn't say he could ever remember being locked in a room with a total stranger and forced to talk before.

Kurt sighed and sat down again, back straight, hands folded in his lap, as he waited for the other boy to co-operate.

Clearly that wasn't happening.

Kurt cleared his throat.

"What?" He looked up then, arms still folded over his chest, feet still on the coffee table. Now Kurt could see his face for the first time. His hair wasn't long, but long enough so that his curly hair fell over his forehead, just above his eyebrows. As soon as he locked eyes with Kurt, the fear in his face seemed to subside a little. His honey coloured eyes meeting Kurt's glasz ones. He was kind of the most beautiful thing Kurt had ever seen. _No. Stop. If anyone found out they'd take you away: another step backwards. You're taking a headfirst dive into the pool of never-return and there will be no one there to throw you a buoyancy aid._

"I… erm, we're not supposed to exchange names, but I'm Kurt." He held out his hand. _Be polite. Names are a good place to start._

The new student ignored the offered handshake.

"Aren't you supposed to be the prefect here? If you aren't supposed to tell me your name, why did you?"

"I was just being polite…"

"Anyway, I know."

"Know what?"Kurt asked.

"I saw your initials on your band: KEH. I guessed it was either Kurt or Kyle." He shrugged. "It's interesting that you spell it with a 'K', though. Are your parents German?" As soon as he realised the person standing in front of him wasn't going to grab him by the shirt collar, the student became rather… self assured. Kurt knew he had the advantage power-wise, but in strength, this boy could easily overthrow him.

"I don't know my parents."

"You don't have to lie to me; I already know your name." The student chuckled and winked in Kurt's direction. At least, he thought it was a wink. Okay, he was definitely not frightened anymore. Kurt felt the tips of his ears go red at the tips at the gesture.

"I suppose you think that's funny?"

"Sort of."

"You're still avoiding the question…"

"And you're avoiding the truth." He replied.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"You know exactly what I mean, Kurt."

"I'm not lying. I don't know them."

"Fine. Okay, whatever you say."

The boy was still eyeing him up and down like a fresh piece of meat. "And you need to stop that."

"What?" He smirked and winked at Kurt again.

"_That!_ That _thing_ that you keep doing. You know it's wrong, so stop it." He folded his arms over his chest and suddenly the floor became very interesting. _Oh, it's tiled with dark red slabs, just like the bathroom. Fascinating._

"Fine. Whatever. Not that it matters to me, but apparently i_someone_/i doesn't seem to mind." Kurt felt his cheeks flush again and tears swelling in his eyes. _Stop crying, it makes you look like an idiot. Pull yourself together, Hummel._

He hated the boy already. He'd spent long enough fighting it, locking it away; convincing himself that these… _feelings_ weren't real. The still nameless stranger unfolded his arms and moved so he could see Kurt better, taking his feet off the coffee table and moving round it to crouch down next to Kurt's chair.

"Hey, no, Kurt, please don't cry." He prised Kurt's hands from his chest and held them in his own. "I didn't mean to upset you, I just thought; well, if I was going to be stuck in here, I may as well find someone to share late-night hook ups with. Shit, no, that came out wrong. Oh, you're laughing. Thank god, I thought I'd fucked it up before I even started." He laughed nervously.

"Started what?" Kurt sniffed.

"I… don't think I can tell you yet. This situation is really fucking weird for me as it is." He chortled.

"You're not supposed to do that either. You know, swear." Kurt sniffed and laughed too.

"Oops. I'm not getting off to a very good start am I? I guess you'll have to teach me the ropes, Mr. Hummel." He looked up from where their hands where joined together, locking eyes with Kurt again. Kurt felt his breath catch in his throat. _Definitely the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen._

"One more thing, you can't touch other people."

"Oh, God. I'm really not doing too well, am I?"

"No, not really." Kurt smiled as he lowered his eyes to look at their still intertwined hands. "But that does kind of mean you have to let go." He raised his head to lock eyes with him again.

"What if I don't want to?" Kurt kept looking at him. He didn't really know what to say. He'd never held hands with anyone, not only because he wasn't allowed to, but he didn't allow himself to.

Eventually the other boy stood up and Kurt let out a breath he didn't even know he was holding.

"I've got to go. If I don't get back to my room in time then my carriage will turn back into a pumpkin." He laughed at his own joke, Kurt stared. "Cinderella? No? Okay. Well, I'll see you tomorrow." The student coughed awkwardly.

"Yeah, tomorrow."

Kurt turned to leave, only making it up the first few stairs before someone tapped him on the shoulder. He turned around.

"Can we start over?" The boy was fidgeting with the bottom of this t-shirt.

"Sure."

"I'm Blaine." He stuck his hand out.

"Kurt," he said, taking Blaine's hand and shaking it, just like it should have been first time round.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: **I must apologise for how long it's taken to get this up. Hopefully there will be an update every week from here on in. Thank you for being patient, I appreciate it.

This story is based on the album _The Resistance_ by _Muse_, the outline of the story is based roughly on the tracks, in chronological order. Other influences are The Resistance by Gemma Malley and the 2005 film, The Island.

**Disclaimer: **See anything you recognise? It's not mine.

* * *

><p><em>All families must comply with the family unit structure. For a household to be considered a family, it must have a matched couple and at least one biological child. If the match is somehow broken, the remaining partner will be rematched. Nonconforming citizens will be prosecuted.<em>

**- Sampson V. Birth Control Legislators, 2074**

Kurt decided this would be his little secret. No one mentioned his disappearance yesterday morning, or at least, not that he was aware. Ma'am didn't address him directly, but she did send several intense glares in his direction, as if she was actually concerned about his wellbeing. It wasn't until that evening that he was approached by Quinn.

"And where were you this morning?" Quinn said as she leaned against the doorframe, arms folded over her chest.

"It's none of your business." Kurt folded up is towel and laid it on the bench with his uniform.

"Come on, K. Who am I going to tell?"

Kurt glanced around the bathroom, making sure all the stalls and sinks were unoccupied, before sticking his head out of the doorway and checking the corridor for wayfaring students, before insisting Quinn close the door behind her.

"I met the new kid. And before you shine a light in my eyes and call an interrogation team, his name is Blaine and I didn't ask how old he was, but he must have been about our age."

"Oh, my god; this is so exciting. What's he like? I bet he was scared, I mean, I know I would be." She was practically bouncing up and down with excitement.

"Scared isn't the word I would use to describe him…" _More like confident and completely and inappropriately beautiful._

"Why is he here? I mean why now?"

"He's nonconforming: Law #27."

* * *

><p>They fell into an easy routine. Kurt would take Blaine his meals, Blaine would scoff at them because '<em>How do you eat this stuff every day? It's disgusting.'<em> Kurt would laugh in response and Blaine would eat it anyway.

It seemed silly. He'd only known Blaine for a few days, he hardly knew anything about him, and yet he was easily one of the only people he trusted, secondly only to Quinn. It was almost as if he'd known him his whole life, and yet he'd just waltzed into his life on Monday.

"Can I ask you some questions?"

"Sure, go for it." It was Wednesday lunchtime: Today was tomato soup.

"_It's not really soup is it? It's more water with added tomatoes."_

"_Oh, shut up and eat it." _

"How old are you?" Kurt said, before drinking a spoonful of his 'soup'.

"I'm 17."

"Why are you here?"

Blaine brought the bowl in his hands up to his mouth and drank the remainder of his soup in one go. Kurt scrunched his nose at the boy's poor manners. Blaine did the same for the taste.

"I convinced my school's glee club to assist me in serenading this guy I liked. He was the junior manager at The Gap, near school. It turns out that trying to seduce another man with a song about sex toys, in the middle of a mall in Ohio, isn't the most reserved way to come out." He laughed as Kurt looked at him in shock.

"Then what happened?"

"The authorities brought me here. Our whole plan is going fairly smoothly, which is a bit surprising, if I'm honest…"

"Wait a second, plan?" Kurt looked at him in confusion. There was a plan? Plan for what? There was something else… "You said 'our', who is 'our'?"

"Shit, I forgot." Blaine brought his hand up to his forehead and rubbed it in concentration. "I… I need to get you out of here, Kurt. I can't say why; not yet. But I'm glad it's you. I'm glad you're the one who I'm breaking out with. My partner in crime," He smiled broadly and winked at Kurt, just like he had at their first meeting two days ago.

It still bothered Kurt; the hand holding, the soft gazes and the flirty gestures. He smiled back, softly. To be perfectly honest, the whole scenario was bewilderingly confusing. Blaine had just confessed that he had a plan; a plan to get Kurt out. He didn't know why, or how, or what he was even planning on doing afterwards, of course, this all relied on whether he actually succeeded.

"Blaine, you know you can't…"

"Break out? We can. That's part of it. One key, that's all we need. We can't do it today, but soon. Just trust me, alright?"

"You know, I'm keeping a tally of how many Laws we've broken so far."

"Oh, really? And how many is that?"

"Too many" He gave the new student a sad smile and looked down into his bowl; stirring the remaining liquid with his spoon, before putting it down on the coffee table.

"Kurt, what's the matter?"

Kurt sighed. "You are."

"What are you…?"

"I don't understand why I trust you so much," Kurt interrupted. "I'm not even questioning anything you're saying, even though I know it's utterly preposterous. You can't get out of here, Blaine." His laugh was hollow; nostalgic. "Every time I look at you, your face is just there and… I've only known you for three days, but it hurts. It hurts really badly because I know that these _feelings_ are wrong. You're wrong… but I don't know what's right." Kurt dropped his hands onto his knees and stared at the floor, before he knew it, Blaine was on his knees in front of him, his hands cupping both of his cheeks.

"Listen to me: It's just those _people_ have made you think that loving someone is wrong. But it's not. They make you feel like you're nothing, just because you don't tick all the boxes they require for you to fit into their idealist world. There's nothing wrong with you. Hey, look at me," Kurt lifted his gaze away from the floor and looked into Blaine's eyes. "You're perfect, Kurt."

"No, I'm not…" He mumbled.

"You're prefect to me, okay? I've always thought so." Blaine closed his eyes and pressed his forehead against Kurt's. Kurt closed his, too, feeling his breath catch in his throat as he felt Blaine's breath ghost across lips, his thumbs still brushing across his cheekbones. "I know you don't understand right now, but you will, I promise."

"You promise?"

"I promise," Blaine said.

* * *

><p>Kurt left soon after Blaine made his promise. 'Everything would be explained sooner or later,' Kurt told himself as he returned the bowls to the kitchen, passing them to the group who had the unfortunate duty of washing up that afternoon.<p>

He knew no matter how much he liked his little secret relationship he had with Blaine, it wouldn't be secret for long, and he would be joining everyone else. Getting out of the basement, or '_a well earned promotion_' as Blaine referred to it as they were eating dinner that evening.

They finished dinner fairly quickly and Kurt took it upon himself to explain the chore rota which operated every day. How the dorms were separated and how he had become such good friends with Quinn when he was awarded the position of prefect. Blaine listened contently; chin resting on his knees as he wrapped his arms around his legs. He nodded occasionally, humming in response when Kurt dared to question the status quo he was used to.

Blaine seemed satisfied with just listening to Kurt talking rather than being grilled on his entire existence. Kurt was fairly sure he was holding something back, even though it appeared as though Blaine trusted Kurt just as much as he trusted Blaine. He remembered the other boy's promise; '_I know you don't understand right now, but you will_.'

* * *

><p>"Why are you here?"<p>

They were sat in their usual seats; talking in hushed tones, like usual. It was Thursday.

"You know why."

"I mean, _why_, Blaine?"

"I can't… this is something you need to figure out on your own."

"You promised.

"I did, but you have to try to see it yourself. You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"I'm trying, I really am. I just don't…" Kurt gestured his hands in the air in frustration.

"No, Kurt, it's okay. Why don't you just… tell me about your past?"

"Well, I've been here since I was eight. I used to live elsewhere, but there was too many of us. So I was brought here. It's the best thing which has happened to me."

"And you've been here since you transferred?"

"Yes," Kurt replied.

"So, tell me about… Quinn?" Kurt nodded. "Right, so, what about her?"

"She used to live in another establishment, too. They'd moved her because of overcrowding. "

"Just like you?"

"Yeah, just like me."

Blaine quirked one of his eyebrows.

"What?" Kurt questioned at Blaine's face expression.

"Nothing. Continue."

"Yeah, so, erm… they said it was because she was one of the oldest, and could handle the move."

"And what happened when she got here? What happened when you got here? Did they bring you down here, too?"

"I can't remember…"

"You can't remember? Surely it was traumatising, moving from one establishment to another?"

"Yes, but… I was just here. It just happened, okay?"

"Right. So a huge chunk of your life is just missing, and you're not even going to question it?" Blaine began to raise his voice, sitting on the edge of his seat, arms gesturing his frustration. Kurt just stared back in fright, bringing his arms up to wrap around his knees, now tucked under his chin.

"I don't… I don't know what…"

"Bull shit! Of course you do! You've never questioned it because you weren't supposed to! Have you never wondered why yours and Quinn's history is exactly the same? Have you spoken to anyone else? Anyone at all that at arrived after you got here? Yes? Let me guess, the moved from another establishment because of overcrowding?" Kurt nodded, tearfully. "You know why that is? Because it's a lie! It's all a fucking lie, and you know it! They're fake: the memories are all faked because they don't want you to know about the Outside; about how they fucked up the whole planet and we're the ones who have to pay for it! And now, because of those assholes, you can't even remember who I am!"

Kurt was shaking. The cogs in his head started ticking, almost painfully slowly, and then exploding. It clicked: Memories, real memories, flashing before his eyelids, like flipping through a photo album: Sitting on the porch, having a tea party with his mother and his favourite stuffed animals: His father picking him up and swinging him around before placing him back on solid ground, watching Kurt spin dizzily and laughing down at him: That curly-haired little boy with honey-coloured eyes at the park who picked him up, and dusted the sand off his clothes when the other kids pushed him down, the one who let him share his toys and didn't mock him for wanting to play princesses instead of soldiers: Watching his dad being dragged away through the blinds of the wardrobe as he stayed there, as instructed.

"_Kurt, stay put, and whatever you do don't come out until Emma gets here, alright? Don't worry about me, kid. I'll be okay, just keep yourself hidden."_

"_I love you, daddy."_

"_Love you, too, kiddo."_

Kurt's eyes were spilling with tears before he could stop them, letting them run down his cheeks and onto his knees, as he rocked slightly in his chair. He didn't know when it happened but Blaine got up from his chair and climbed behind Kurt, putting his legs either side of Kurt and pulling him into his lap. He put one arm around Kurt's waist as he stroked his fingers through the other boy's hair, letting Kurt sob quietly into his shoulder.

"You know that Boondock is just another name for Backwoods; an area away from a civilisation? You may even say, isolated?"

"Oh, my God…"

"I know, Kurt. I know."


End file.
